


This Kind of Rush

by trespresh



Series: I'm Half-Doomed, You're Semi-Sweet [14]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (Not so secret), Alcohol, Drunk Shenanigans, M/M, Secret Relationship, Team Flash being cute and bffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trespresh/pseuds/trespresh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry laughs, loud and easy; it’s been so long since he’s felt a buzz, so long since he’s been able to let go of the strangling guilt that pushes dully at the edge of his rib cage, the far corners of his mind, even today, all these months later—the weight of the Flash persona slips further away with every shot he tips back.</p><p>(In which Team Flash bonds and Len gets a show.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Kind of Rush

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely inspired by [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x58qBu6FB6Q). *heart eyes*
> 
> All the love and then some to [the best cheerleader](http://that-pumpkinspicewhitegirl.tumblr.com/). Title belongs to my loves, One Direction. Characters belong to DCU.

“We’re going out tonight, dude. Caitlin whipped up something for you that I think you’re gonna like.”

Barry cuts left down 3rd Street at super-speed, weaving between cars. “Oh yeah?” He says into the com. “Tell me this home-brew is actually going to work. I could use a drink.”

He can hear the tentative smile in Caitlin’s voice when she responds, “I think I’ve developed a formula that’ll last for you, Barry. I’ve distilled the tequila and used a special oak to age it quickly, and then I added—”

Cisco cuts her off with a laugh. “The science of getting wasted.”

Barry laughs with him and dodges an oncoming bus with ease. “You’re the best, Cait. Okay, just let me drop by my house to pick up clothes and I’ll—”

“Wait, Barry,” Cisco interrupts with newfound determination in his voice. “The alarm in the CC Exchange vault is going off.” Barry can hear him typing furiously on his computer, and takes a sharp left down a street toward the bank. Cisco groans, “Looks like Cold is making a withdrawal. God, will you tell the guy to take a night off? We’ve got plans!”

Barry grins to himself. “I’ll take care of it. Give me ten minutes.”

+

“Can we make this fast, Cold?”

Len turns to face him, his goggles glowing with the lightning of Barry’s arrival. “What, you got better places to be, kid?”

“Matter of fact,” Barry shrugs, disconnecting the com as per usual, wherever Cold is concerned.

Len quirks an eyebrow at him. “Well, don’t let me stop you,” he drawls, turning back toward the heaps of money lining the bank vault.

Barry zips to his side, grabbing a stack of bills out of Len’s hand. “Since when do you set off alarms, anyway?”

Len yanks the stack back from Barry and stuffs it into the duffle at his feet. “I was bored. Thought I’d liven things up.”

His smirk only makes Barry roll his eyes.

“Yeah, it’ll be live enough here when the cops surround the bank.”

“As if they’re ever fast enough.” Len glances at his watch. “Still got… 84 seconds until the first responders… _respond_.”

Barry grins. “This is too easy for you. You’re losing your touch.”

Len’s smirk manages to be nonchalant and filthy at the same time. “That’s not what you were screaming last night.”

Barry wrinkles his nose in annoyance, and really, he walked right into that one. “You’re the worst.”

Len barks a laugh and Barry kind of wants to hit him. “Also not what you were screaming last— _ah!_ ”

He’s cut off by his own gasp for air, when Barry grabs him around the waist and bolts them both out of the vault.

Barry can feel Len tuck his head into Barry’s chest against the rush of wind, arms tightening around Barry’s shoulders, and he skids to a stop in Len’s apartment after a few moments. He sets Len lightly onto the couch; Len looks like he’s trying his hardest to glare at Barry and hold back vomit at the same time.

“We’ve _talked_ about that, Barry,” he growls, closing his eyes and leaning back against the couch. “ _Warn me_ , for fuck’s sake.”

Barry chuckles. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Len grumbles. “What’s so important that you had to try to kill me with super-speed?”

 _What a drama queen_.

“I’m going out with my friends,” Barry says, “Caitlin made me a special drink, and since I had to detour to the bank, I don’t have time to go home and change. So—” He zips into Len’s bedroom and rifles through the sparse closet. He flits into a simple black button-down; the shirt is a bit too big on him, too wide in the shoulders, but he rolls the sleeves and grins at his reflection in Len’s mirror. The collar smells faintly of Len’s aftershave; he (secretly) hopes the cool, piney scent lingers for the night, eager to smell Len on himself even in Len’s absence.

A pair of his own jeans lay on the floor from the night before, and Barry pulls them on before walking back into the living room where Len still lounges on the couch. “I’m borrowing this,” he says, well aware of the way Len’s eyes roam over him, hungry.

He walks over, bending to kiss Len. Len’s quick, gets a finger through Barry’s belt loop, the other hand curling around the back of Barry’s thigh and pulling him down. Barry goes easily enough, crawling into Len’s lap, a knee on either side of Len’s hips; he braces his hands on the top of the couch behind the other’s head, leaning in to kiss him with the guide of Len’s hand on the back of his neck.

The fingers on his neck squeeze lightly and Barry sighs into Len’s mouth, loving the press of Len’s thumb against the base of his jaw, the possessive grip holding him here, tight against Len. Len’s hips roll up against his and Barry grinds down, almost ready to forego the night out with Cisco and Caitlin in favor of scrambling out of his new change of clothes—but.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls back. Len’s mouth immediately drops to latch onto the exposed pale skin of Barry’s collarbone while Barry stifles his groan and answers Cisco’s questioning text.

**_(8:32 p.m.) Got held up. Be there in 5._ **

He hums. “I’ve gotta go.”

Len bites down on his collarbone in annoyance, pulling a shaky breath from Barry. He tilts his head up to press his lips to Barry’s again, wishing for the hundredth time that he could mark Barry with his mouth.

“You don’t _have_ to,” Len mutters against Barry’s lips, tightening his free hand on Barry’s thigh.

Barry kisses him again, stifling his own laugh. “ _Len_.”

Len sighs and lets go, and Barry shuffles to stand. He straightens his (Len’s) shirt and runs his hands through his hair, ruffled by Len’s expert fingers.

“Stay out of trouble,” Barry says, smiling down at Len, who smirks in return.

“Same to you,” he says. It’s then that his eyes narrow and he glances around, sitting up straighter. “Wait, did you—? Did you leave my money at the bank?”

Barry grins, bright and toothy. “It wasn’t your money,” he says, stealing a lightning-speed kiss before calling out, “Bye!” and bolting out of the apartment.

+

Caitlin is, as Barry’s come to realize more and more each day, a truly incredible scientist. And quite the distiller, as it turns out.

Barry tells her so before downing his fifth shot of the highly potent home-brew she’d brought with her to the bar, thoroughly enjoying the warmth bubbling low in his stomach, the tingling looseness that trickles down his arms and legs.

“I’m glad it’s working,” she smiles, sipping daintily at the gin and tonic Cisco had pushed into her hand nearly an hour ago.

Barry laughs, loud and easy; it’s been so long since he’s felt a buzz, so long since he’s been able to let go of the strangling guilt (of Ronnie, of Eddie, _his mother_ —of everyone he’s been too slow to save) that pushes dully at the edge of his ribcage, the far corners of his mind, even today, all these months later—the weight of the Flash persona slips further away with every shot he tips back.

For the first time in too long, Barry is well and truly relaxed.

He sways lightly to the pop music thrumming through the bar speakers and absently looks around, oblivious to the amused grins shared by Cisco and Caitlin. Caitlin unscrews the flask of Barry’s drink and pours him a sixth alongside the two tequila shots Cisco’s ordered for them (“Caitlin, you have to take one, tequila is part of my _heritage_. Don’t insult me, please,”) and the glasses make a tidy little _clink_ as they cheers. Barry’s shot goes down easily and he lets out another giddy laugh at nothing as he licks his lips.

“This stuff is _so_ ,” he hiccups, “— _good_ , Cait.”

Caitlin’s face is pinched as she sucks her lime wedge. “Just take it easy, Barry, okay?” She says, fondly chastising. “It’s strong enough to kill a normal person.”

Barry wiggles his brows at her, shoulders bobbing along to the bar music. “But’m _not_ normal, remember?”

Cisco claps Barry on the shoulder with a laugh. “Yeah, man, you’re good, right? Besides,” he turns to Caitlin while Barry nods exaggeratedly. “If anyone deserves to get seriously wasted…” he trails off, head tilted toward Barry.

Barry’s smile is all teeth and scrunched eyes when he looks at Caitlin, and she laughs and lifts her glass to her lips.

“I’m glad we’re here,” Barry says loudly, throwing an arm across Cisco’s shoulders. “I wish we’d done this sooner, you know? This is fun. You guys are fun. We have fun together, right?”

Cisco laughs, “Oh, my God, shut up,” and tries to pour them another round while Barry sways next to him. “You’re totally tanked, aren’t you?”

Barry smiles wider. “Nuh-uh, I only had—” he counts silently on his fingers, “—I don’know, a few drinks.”

Caitlin smiles—she looks relaxed too, much like Barry feels, and it’s nice, the easy, uninhibited look about her face. “We need to catch up to you,” she says, and her voice sounds lazy and happy.

“Nobody c’n catch up to me,” he cackles, and when Cisco casts a wary look around, he smiles hard at Caitlin, leaning across the table to whisper loudly, “I’m too fast.”

She joins his laughter and Cisco rolls his eyes, tipping his shot back before they can join him. “I am _not_ going to be the babysitter tonight,” he mumbles.

Barry hums and sways dizzily on his feet, closing his eyes, and thinks that even if he hadn’t been struck by lightning, even if he hadn’t become the Flash, he’d still have found a way to end up here, with Caitlin and Cisco.

He hears himself say, “I want to dance,” from very far away, like he’s listening to himself yell from across the bar, and when he opens his eyes, he’s on the dance floor across from Caitlin and Cisco. He wonders vaguely how much time has passed, watching the lights above flicker from purple to pink to blue across Cisco’s face, the bracelets on Caitlin’s wrist sparkling. Barry watches, too warm and happily drunk to care about much other than how comfortable he is, his mind clouded over in a haze of fuzz.

+

Caitlin has the good sense to collect a round of waters when they come stumbling off the dance floor, giggling and hanging off each other before falling into their booth.

It’s nice, Barry thinks distractedly, the way his friends smile at him, the normally stressed lines of their faces relaxed into giddy expressions, skin flushed with the heat of the bar and alcohol. Just like that, Len’s smile flits across his mind’s eye, warm and fond, and he wonders how Caitlin and Cisco’s faces would change if they ever learned the way Len smiles at him. His stomach flips and he chases the lump in his throat with another shot.

+

**(12:04 a.m.) lnen**

**(12:04 a.m.) lennyyy**

(12:06 a.m.) Hi, Barry. Having fun?

**(12:11 a.m.) I lvoe my frineds lenny**

**(12:12 a.m.) almostas much as you**

**(12:12 a.m.) hahahahhg**

(12:19 a.m.) …I see Caitlin’s special drink worked. How drunk are you, Barry?

**(12:21 a.m.) I like when tou say my nameee lneny**

+

Cisco’s head is down on his crossed arms by the time Caitlin calls them a cab at the end of the night.

“It’s s’okay, guys,” Barry hiccups when Caitlin gathers her things and pulls Cisco to his feet. “Iris’s comin’ t’get me.”

He throws his arms around them both and accepts Cisco’s sloppy kiss to his cheek, before watching them stumble out the front door and into their waiting cab. He waits for the cab to pull away from the curb before pulling out his phone, blinking until it comes into focus in his swimming vision and typing with alcohol-clumsy fingers.

**(1:34 a.m.) come get meeee**

+

It feels like hours before Len walks through the front door of the bar, eyes skimming the room until they land on Barry, swaying off-beat with the music still blaring over the speakers.

“ _Len!_ ” Barry hollers when Len walks closer, and at the same time, the song changes overhead. Len recognizes the upbeat bass line, already rolling his eyes because nothing good can come from this.

He’s not wrong. Barry’s eyes widen, his mouth parting in a wild grin. “I _love_ this song,” he cackles, and the way he tries to sing along to the words he doesn’t know is almost as endearing as it is amusing.

“’Are you okay, Annie?’” Barry bursts out singing at the chorus, “’Annie are you okay / Would you tell us / That you’re okay?’” He can’t quite contain the toothy grin on his face, trying to focus his drunken eyes on Len as he steps forward to the beat of the song.

“Please, stop,” Len says, eyebrow quirked. The kid can sing; Barry Allen still manages to surprise him, even after so many months. He spares a glance around the half-full bar before watching Barry try to dance closer.

“’Something, something, something / The bloodstains on the carpet,’” Barry sings loudly, eyes narrowed on Len, sidling closer across the floor. He touches the backs of chairs as he goes, long limbs flailing in a way he seems to think is sexy. Len tries not to laugh. “Something, something / It was your doom.’”

He attempts to keep his eyes on Len while he does a sort of spinning move and promptly stumbles, catching himself on a chair while Len steps forward. He’s laughing when Len reaches him, surging up to kiss Len when strong hands clench at his hips, holding him steady.

“Seems like you’ve had a good night,” Len smiles when Barry pulls away, grinning.

“’You’ve been hit by’—” He taps twice on Len’s chest and Len rolls his eyes, “—‘You’ve been struck by’—” another tap on Len’s chest, “’A smooth criminal.’”

Barry throws his head back with laughter, purely delighted by his own cleverness, and he’s so carefree and relaxed and warm in Len’s arms that Len can’t help but laugh along with him. He watches the easy, happy smile on Barry’s face like he’s blinded by it, until Barry tilts his head forward again, meeting him halfway for a kiss that quickly heats.

Barry’s head is fuzzy and distant; he’s so comfortably wrapped in Len’s arms, lost in the feel of Len’s hands heavy on his hips, Len’s warm mouth against his, the feel of Len’s cropped hair under Barry’s fingertips—that he doesn’t notice the cab pull up again outside the front doors of the bar.

He doesn’t hear the _ding_ of the bell above the bar door when someone walks in.

“Barry, oh, I _knew_ I left my purse here, I—oh, my God.”

He rips his lips away from Len’s, a cold lump dropping in his stomach, and looks over.

There, in the doorway, with wide eyes and her small hands over her mouth, is Caitlin.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to thank all of you for being so patient, I know it's been way too long since I last posted. I don't typically like posting a fic unless I have the next part at least half-written, but the one that comes after this has been a long time coming. I've had the end of this series planned since before I started it, and until I tried to sit down to actually write it, I didn't realize how much of the idea comes from personal experience (the wound from which was recently reopened). So I've been putting it off, and I'm sorry. So thank you all for all the love and support for this series--it's what keeps me going ♥
> 
> Come [scream with me](http://cummandercold.tumblr.com/) about coldflash and stuff!


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